How Can You Not?
by EagleDaydream
Summary: A rant/ramble of mine about band pride. ^.^ I suck at summaries, so the actual fic should be more interesting than the summary. :D


How Can You Not?  
  
  
  
[A/N: Today, the officers of my band had a little presentation about group morale and spirit. Many of them, being seniors, talked about their experiences as a freshman and laughed at past years. But even as I listened thoughtfully to them, other thoughts were running through my mind. Here's my expression for the moment-- call it a rant or a heart-felt ramble. Read and you'll find out. ^.^]  
  
  
  
Every day, we walk into that spacious band room.  
  
Every morning, I rush down to the band room for the morning band class, take my trumpet out of its case, examine the trumpet to see if it needs any fixing or oiling, and warm up.  
  
Every day. That's what I do.  
  
Now, one outside of band may think that it's a lost cause. Why do all this preparation just for a damn band class? Just for forty-five minutes, you'll be sitting with your section and playing some notes on a sheet.  
  
Just hearing an expression like that makes me tense up. I can understand someone outside of band may not share the joys that those inside of band do, but when I hear someone actually in the band say that, the expression on my face is undeniable.  
  
A meeting was called for the time following today's afterschool band practice; from what I caught word of, it was a morale-booster, a meeting about pride. My first thought about it was that it was going to be lame; we would probably be hearing the band directors preach about how their dreams for the band, and how we can improve upon all the good we already had. But, I was going to go to the meeting, unlike some people I knew.  
  
So, after the day's afternoon practice, I meandered into the auditorium, and took the first empty seat I spotted, albeit I vaguely knew the people who I was sitting in between. But to me, it didn't matter. They were in band. We were like family.  
  
I looked up to the stage, and saw mainly the band officers, drum majors, and a few seniors, all sitting in seats upon the stage. I brightened up at the fact that I didn't have to sit idly while the group was lectured about pride.  
  
I have pride. I've had pride since my first adventures in band camp.  
  
In a few minutes, the meeting had begun, and the each person on the stage began to tell a bit about their experiences in band, and what kind of pride they had inherited over their years. I have to say that it was much more interesting than a lecture.  
  
A few people down the row, I had heard quite a bit of repetition, people up on stage laughing about remembered moments, and how they got the nerve to let loose in band and really show their pride. There were happy faces all across the stage.  
  
But then, something happened. I wasn't completely concentrating until one girl's sniffle brought me back into full consciousness. The girl that was speaking on the stage had begun crying, and at that moment, I could tell that pride really meant a lot to these people. That particular girl's speech was cut short, I believe, because it understandable-- you can't particularly ramble on when you're crying.  
  
Then came the next girl's turn. In her introduction, she announced that she would probably end up crying as well, and she asked us to bear with her. We gave a few chuckles at her statement, but buckled down to listen. Just as predicted, the girl had begun crying as well, but she didn't stop. She went through different parts of her speech-- reflection, mainly, then happiness, then anger. The anger was what really hit me. I thought that this was going to be a meeting of happy faces. No, that just changed. This was now a meeting of a mixture of happy faces, sad faces, and angry faces. The girl began ranting about how she's heard people say that they just really didn't care; she explained how she had heard around people saying that they really didn't care about the band, being in band, doing well in band, and the like.  
  
I can't even understand the reasoning behind it.  
  
That's what got me emotional, too. Some friends I had met in band had told me that they hated band.  
  
They actually said they hated band.  
  
While I was sitting there, now off in my own thoughts, and I recalled those times. One girl I had talked to told me that she'd rather be a cheerleader than in band.  
  
A cheerleader! Rather than in band! No offense to cheerleaders, but really-- a cheerleader, rather than in band!  
  
When she had told me that, I gave her my shocked expression, and asked her if she was insane. Just that statement alone told me that she wasn't in band because she believed in band.  
  
I believe in band. I really do enjoy band.  
  
Snapped out of my own flashback by the next presenter, I quickly looked around me. I rolled my eyes at what I saw. People were talking to their friends, poking the person in front of them, and whispering away as though this presentation meant nothing to them.  
  
Then, some people were quiet and attentive, paying attention to what the people on stage were saying. I believe I can best relate to those people-- the attentive ones-- the ones that actually cared about band.  
  
I turned back to the presentation and ranted silently. I really didn't care if they had something better to do. It was no reason to go off chatting with your friends, and not giving any thought whatsoever to what this meeting was actually called for.  
  
But I shrugged off the anger, and paid attention to the remaining presenters. Before I knew it, the presentation was over, and we were allowed to leave. I shuffled out of my row, and made my way out of the auditorium. In front of me were two people I knew, talking away. One of them said that he couldn't wait to quit band.  
  
All those shrugged off emotions stirred inside of me.  
  
After that heart-felt presentation, he actually had the nerve to proclaim that he couldn't wait to quit band!  
  
In fact, he had repeated it a few times, and some people overheard him. A girl came over and yelled at him for saying such a thing. I just laughed silently to myself, with a thought in my mind-- "Go her."  
  
Upon getting home, after thinking about that presentation, I realized that I could share a view with everyone who spoke up on that stage earlier. I could picture myself standing up on that stage in the future, giving my own ramble about pride.  
  
I can very easily ramble about pride. Because I have pride.  
  
Then I got to thinking about the people that just didn't care about band; the ones who weren't really in the band. They were in the class, at the parades, at the games, and the like.  
  
But they weren't in the band.  
  
And now I'm beginning to comprehend the meaning of the phrase 'in the band.' I don't consider those people who don't care in the band. Everyone on that stage was really in the band. I can bet that many people in the audience were also in the band. And I knew that people in the audience were also not in the band.  
  
So, now, however you happened to stumble upon my ramblings, if you play in a marching band, ask yourself-- "Am I in the band?"  
  
I sure as hell am.  
  
And thinking about the people that don't care and don't want to be in band, I just shake my head. I'm never going to comprehend their ways of thinking about the band.  
  
  
  
How can you not love band?  
  
  
  
[ Wow! You've actually read this from start to finish. I thank you profusely, and urge you to reply. ^.^ Pretty please? Me and m'trumpet will love you forever and ever and ever! XDD So, really, tell me what you think. :) ] 


End file.
